


All cats are gray at night

by Synodic



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3977527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synodic/pseuds/Synodic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brainstorm knows he's not the one Perceptor thinks about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All cats are gray at night

The whirr of fans filled the darkened hab-suite with a quiet hum, a counterpoint to the harsh clatter of plating meeting plating. There were no words, only soft gasps and low moans, punctuated by grunts of effort. Brainstorm arched with each thrust, tasting energon on his tongue with his struggle to keep himself from talking. Perceptor had made it clear that he had two rules for these trysts; no lights, and no talking. He had no desire to break the mood, not when he was this close, and not when it would likely take weeks for the other scientist to be willing to seek this sort of comfort.

Slightly cold, large hands released their aching grip on his waist and roamed over his chest, and up along his throat to cup the sides of his face. It was a prelude to a kiss; harsh and biting and wet, the sort Brainstorm only took because there was no other kind from Perceptor. Fingers stroked over the top of his head, biting into the empty space where there should have been long, graceful finials.

The shift in position had Percy's spike striking new, deeper nodes and Brainstorm cried out around the sting of teeth. Hands released his head but the kiss didn't stop. Fingertips dragged down his shoulders, chipping paint in their wake. Brainstorm knew what was coming and lifted his hands from Percy's chest, letting his wrists be caught in one hand and pushed down onto the berth above his head. The brush of a palm against his own felt something like intimacy, and his spark burned in his chest. It felt so good to be completely covered, the hot air of his fans blown back against his frame. He loved it, he loved this feeling even as he knew Perceptor was searching for something he wouldn't find in him, a poor substitute for a ghost.

The other hand groped one of his thighs, feeling for soft curves where there were none, before pushing it open nearly to the limit of his flexibility. Percy's thick spike drove deeper, hitting his ceiling node with each push, sending pulses of molten electricity sparking through Brainstorm's frame each time. The other scientist pulled back and Brainstorm watched with the dim light of his optics as Perceptor's face twisted in concentration, mouth slack with his cresting charge. His foot scraped against the berth before he managed to steady it, pushing against it to tilt his hips. The slight adjustment had Percy groaning and Brainstorm crying out, his swollen nub smearing against black plating. Hot, terrible need built up in Brainstorm's core, scorching its way through his systems and making his valve gush anew against the invading spike. He did scream when Percy's hand slipped from thigh to hip and gripped him tight; pulling their arrays flush with each other to grind his hips in little circles, lighting up the most sensitive inner nodes just along the entrance to his valve and nearly crushing his nub against his body. Overload crashed through him in a hot pulse, coiling his body tight enough to hurt as he shivered and gasped. The hot, pleasant ache continued to burn in waves as Perceptor resumed his thrusting, harder and faster now as he chased his own release. Oversensitivity had Brainstorm tripping into a second, smaller overload, then a tiny third as Perceptor hissed through clenched teeth and spilled a gush of transfluid right up on his ceiling node.

Perceptor hummed softly as he slowed down, sliding in and out of Brainstorm's valve at a gentle pace, teasing one last small spurt from his spike before finally withdrawing. After taking a moment to let his fans bring his frame's temperature down he opened his optics, having closed them since they'd turned off the lights and started kissing. Brainstorm watched quietly; Perceptor never looked at his face afterward, always finding another part of his body to focus on. This time, as he placed both hands on Brainstorm's thighs to hold them apart, he looked at the flyer's sloppy valve. The blue light of his optics tracked a glob of transfluid as it rolled down his aft to the berth. Perceptor said nothing, watching as embarrassment and the aftershocks of multiple overloads made his valve clench, each quiver forcing more of their mixed fluids out. When his valve no longer leaked the other scientist finally shifted, pulling out a clean cloth and gently wiping down his thighs and interface array, while Brainstorm stared at the ceiling.

It was the gentleness after the fact that was the worst. There was still no talking, no lights, no meeting each other's gaze; but the soft touches and caring strokes made Brainstorm want to scream. He knew he wasn't who Perceptor thought of when he closed his eyes, and the false intimacy made shame and remorse burn in him.

And he never, ever wanted these small tastes of it to stop.

But stop it did, and when Brainstorm's array and the berth under his aft was clean, Perceptor patted his thigh and stood up.

“Shall I turn the lights on as I leave?”

“Nah. See you in the lab tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

Brainstorm continued to study a small weld mark above his berth, listening instead of watching as Percy left. In the darkness and silence he felt haunted by an echo he couldn't blame, and the smell of Perceptor's wax.

 


End file.
